A/N For anyone who's already read the first two chapters I have changed the name of the older healer to Miriam Strout, which was the name given to her in the book.


Neville Longbottom made the final brushstrokes against the wall and stepped back to look at the finished results. He narrowly avoided a small, brown and white terrier dog which had been sleeping on the paint spattered floor. Neville spoke to the dog, "Well Jack, what do you think of my handiwork?" The dog regarded him with soft brown eyes and settled his head back on to his paws to resume his nap. "That impressed are you old boy?" asked Neville. The dog wasn't especially old, Neville had bought him shortly after he had left Hogwarts School some seven years ago. Seven long years when, at times, Neville had despaired of his parents ever making a proper recovery. To Neville, wizard healers seemed to be good at dealing with physical injuries like broken limbs or even petrification by a basilisk reflection, but traumas of the mind were not an illness where wizards had mastered a cure. His parents would probably never be fully cured. Hermione had told him it was the same in the muggle world. Few people were ever completely healed of such a trauma – they just learned how to cope, to recognise and deal with the negative symptoms when they occurred, so he shouldn't be too hard on the wizard healers' slowness in working out how to help his parents.

A knock sounded on the wooden panel of the door leading into the room, Neville walked around the dog to open the door. On the other side was straight-backed grey haired woman carrying two cups of tea. Neville took one of the cups from her, "Thanks Gran," he said.

"How are you getting along with the decorating," she asked coming into the room. She circled the room slowly and examined the walls minutely.

"I've finished!" he declared with satisfaction.

"No – you've missed a bit," she said pointing to patch on the wall.

Neville joined her, "No, that's just where the paint is still wet. It'll be fine when it dries properly." As a child Neville would never have dared to contradict his grandmother, she had scared him with her strict demands and loud reprimands. Once she had embarrassed him by sending a howler by owl to Hogwarts, which had shouted at him loud enough to be heard by the whole school. But since then he had learned what true fear was. He had experienced evil and brutality in his seventh year at Hogwarts, when at times he had felt overwhelmed with the responsibility for keeping the fight going against Voldemort's supporters and protesting about their abuse of Hogwarts students. During those days he had longed for nothing worse than a howler during meal times.

His grandmother grunted good-naturedly, "I haven't got my glasses with me."

"Yes, Gran," said Neville taking a sip of his tea to hide his smile. "We'll lay the carpet tomorrow when the paint has dried," he told her. "Afterwards we can move in the furniture." He located his wand which he had left on the ladder and cast a clearing up spell. He walked around the room firing small spells to clean up the splattered paint on the floor.

"Neville, you could have decorated the whole room using magic," Augusta remarked as she watched him clearing up. "You didn't have to do it manually - the muggle way."

"I know but I wanted to put something of me into the room for Mum and Dad. My own time and effort seemed fitting and more personal."

"I understand," she said, standing next to him. The both lifted their cups of tea and took a mouthful at the same time. Anyone looking at them would have known at once they were related, although separated in age by sixty years, they had the same grey eyes and upright stance. Neville had long since lost the puppy fat of his early adolescence and stood more than a head taller than his grandmother. He had filled out and developed strong muscles brought about by his work in his market garden where he grew plants and herbs for use in potions and healer's remedies.

Many of his cohort at Hogwarts had considered careers as aurors or in the Ministry of Magic but Neville had had his fill of violence and warfare at school. He had done more that was ever expected of him during those dark days, and had earned his place in history, but it was not a path he wanted to continue to tread. Herbology had been his favourite and best subject at school and he chose to grow and nurture plants. These days the fight put up by the mandrakes at repotting time was enough of a battle for him.

Neville finished drinking his tea and Augusta took the cup from him. "You finish tidying up in here now and I'll go and start dinner. Are we expecting Hannah to join us?" she asked.

Hannah Abbott was Neville's girlfriend. They had both been in the same year at Hogwarts but had not known each other well when at school and had lost contact when they left Hogwarts. They chanced to meet again a few months ago and started dating. Augusta liked Hannah, she was sweet and kind and found humour in unlikely places. She had been a member of Dumbledore's Army at school and had been one of the students who remained to fight the Battle of Hogwarts, which raised her up in Augusta's view over those who didn't.

"Yes, if that's all right?" said Neville.

"Of course it is," she replied. "Hannah's a nice girl. It's time you thought about settling down Neville. Harry and Ginny are married; so are Hermione and Ron; even Draco Malfoy found someone who would have him - you could do a lot worse than Hannah."

"Oh Gran!" said Neville blushing a slight pink.

Augusta deliberately piled on the embarrassment. "I want to live to see my great-grandchildren, you know, so don't leave it too long, or I shall just be stuck in my bath chair and I'll scare them so much that they won't come to visit me." As she left the room Neville thought that his grandmother would never end her days like that but she did have a point – she wasn't getting any younger and it was Neville's responsibility to look after her. Just as it was his responsibility to care for his parents when they came home in a few days. His own future, with or without Hannah (preferably with), would have to wait.

After dinner, Neville and Hannah were sitting close together on the couch with gentle music playing in the background and Jack asleep on the floor by their feet. Augusta had left them alone. She was old fashioned enough not to allow Hannah to stay overnight but she had sufficient tact to give time together before Hannah went home.

"When are your parents are coming back?" asked Hannah.

"Next weekend," replied Neville.

"And they are well?" she asked as she leant against Neville.

"Yes," he replied with certainty as he put his arm around her shoulder before confessing, "I'm a bit nervous if I'm honest. I'm not sure how it will work out with us all living here after so long with it just being me and Gran."

"Your parents have stayed her before, haven't they?" Hannah asked.

"For a few days now and then, so they could get used to it and to be sure they could make the transition to life outside of St Mungo's. This time it will be permanent. That's what worrying."

"Can't they go and live in their own house, once they're familiar with their new life?" Hannah asked. She felt Neville tense and wondered why her question had affected him.

"No," he said, "Gran sold it a few months after Mum and Dad were first admitted to St Mungo's – when she was told there was no hope of them ever getting better." Neville lapsed into silence before continuing somewhat hesitantly, "There was another reason she sold the house. The Death Eaters had tortured them inside it."

"What!" exclaimed Hannah. "I didn't know that."

"Not many people do," Neville admitted. "Gran and Granddad thought it best not to talk about it," he gave a short laugh, "no one would have bought the house if they'd known, they would think it cursed. Although," he added thoughtfully, "that wasn't why Gran and Granddad didn't tell anyone - it was to protect me."

"Yes, I can understand that," said Hannah, "You wouldn't want to be reminded about the place where your parents were tortured, so by selling it there was one less thing to remind you, and for that matter your grandparents."

Neville removed his arm from Hannah's shoulder and turned to face her, "There is more to it than that, Hannah, I was in the house when the Death Eaters came – I saw everything."

Hannah gasped, "But you were only a baby! How could Bellatrix have done that to a mother in front of her child? She truly was an evil woman."

"Who knows what goes through the mind of a Death Eater," said Neville.

"Nothing good," murmured Hannah, "my own mother was killed by a Death Eater in cold blood. She was going about her normal daily business, she was no threat."

Neville stared at Hannah's face, he could see concern and (he hoped) love in her expression. He loved Hannah and wanted her to be a part of his life – they should have no secrets between them. "I don't remember it," he said, "Gran has told me since what must have happened. Mum and Dad won't speak of it to me."

"Tell me about it, Neville," she said softly, she wanted to know everything that had made him the man she saw before her, the man she had fallen in love with.

Neville moved to lean back against the couch and replaced his arm around Hannah. In moving he had disturbed Jack, who shuffled position and resettled himself. Neville started at the ceiling and began the tale.

"I asked Gran how the Death Eaters could have found out where Mum and Dad lived and why they didn't have a secret keeper like Harry's parents did. Mum and Dad were both aurors and worked for the Ministry of Magic." Neville felt Hannah nod in acknowledgement. "Their address would have been a matter of record at their workplace. The Death Eaters must have had spies at the Ministry and no amount of secret keepers would have saved them."

"It didn't save Harry's parents, did it?" commented Hannah.

"No," agreed Neville grimly. "My parent's house was protected," he said, "they had all manner of wards, protective spells and charms around it. The Death Eaters would have known about that and came armed with counterspells.

"My parents were both at home that day. Gran and Granddad worked out that the Death Eaters must have first attacked the house at the front door. Dad ran to the door to distract the Death Eaters to give Mum time to grab me and get away.

"Mum tried to disapparate, even though you shouldn't disapparate with a baby, but this was an emergency. What my parents didn't know was that the first thing the Death Eaters had done when they arrived was to cast a spell to prevent apparition," he glanced over towards Hannah, "You know – like Dumbeldore did at Hogwarts." Hannah nodded in acknowledgement and Neville continued. "So Mum and Dad were trapped in their own house. The Death Eaters had also prevented them from using the floo network."

"Like Umbridge," commented Hannah drily.

"Mum ran to the back door with me but the Death Eaters were blocking that way out too. Dad was still at the front door, by then the Death Eaters had broken through – in the muggle way by using an axe.

"Jess must have attacked one of the Death Eaters because she was hit by an Avada Kadavra curse. When Gran and Granddad found her they thought she was dead, but she wasn't. Harry isn't the first to survive a killing curse," Neville said proudly in memory of his dog.

"Mum must have known that she had no chance of running away, so she hid me in a cupboard. I had been stunned with the Petrificus Totalus spell. Gran thinks Mum must have done it to stop me from crawling away or making a noise. Mum even had the presence of mind to banish all of my baby toys and equipment, so there was no sign that a baby lived in the house."

"Surely Bellatrix would have known that Frank and Alice had a child?" queried Hannah.

"Perhaps with no evidence of a baby she didn't remember that piece of information. Or maybe the informant at the Ministry was under an Imperius curse and only gave the information they had been told to provide – Mum and Dad's address," Neville speculated.

"The Death Eaters tortured my parents for hours," whispered Neville, "First Dad and then Mum."

"What about the neighbours?" asked Hannah in horror, "Surely someone would have done something?"

"Those were dark days," said Neville gloomily, "like when Harry was on the run from Voldemort. No one saw anything, no one intervened. Gran said the house had been covered with a sound proofing charm, so it is possible that no one heard the screams."

"Oh Neville, that's awful," Hannah said touching in arm in sympathy.

He carried on with his narration. "Gran and Granddad weren't intending to visit Mum and Dad that day, they stopped by because I'd lost my favourite toy the last time we'd been at Gran's house. They had found my toy stuffed down the back of the couch. Gran said that she and Granddad never needed much of an excuse to visit their baby grandson."

Neville's face took on a haunted expression and he continued to speak in a soft voice that Hannah had to strain to hear but she didn't want to ask him to speak louder. He was obviously finding it difficult to relate this story and if she stopped him he may never tell it again. "Gran and Granddad knew something was wrong the second they apparated in front of the house – the door was smashed off its hinges. The rushed inside and saw Jess's body on the floor in the hallway. The door to the lounge was ajar and Gran heard someone groaning inside. Gran threw open the door and screamed out loud when she saw the scene." Neville glanced over at Hannah, "It must have been bad to make Gran scream. She said the couch had been thrown against the wall, the table smashed into tiny pieces. The healers found hundreds of splinters in Dad – he must have taken the full force of it. Every piece of china and glass was broken, the soot and ash from the fireplace was sprayed around the room covering everything in a grey dust. The sign of the Dark Mark was etched into the wall above the fire place – that was how Gran and Granddad knew at once who was responsible." Neville spoke even more quietly, the pain in his voice evident. "Dad was hunched up in the corner of the room leaning against the door leading into the kitchen. His head was bleeding and his face bruised and swollen so much he was barely recognisable. He was whispering, "Stop, stop, leave her alone, stop, take me, kill me instead, leave her alone." Gran said his body was twitching uncontrollably with each word."

Hannah felt a wave of empathetic pain sweep over her as Neville continued although she knew the telling was not easy for him.

"Mum was lying on the floor among the broken crockery and glass; her body was covered in cuts and gashes; she was staring vacantly at the ceiling and she didn't speak a word for nearly 15 years." Neville took a deep breath and continued in a slightly firmer tone. "Gran said, "Where's Neville?". Granddad told her to look for me and he would take Frank and Alice to St Mungo's. That was when they discovered they couldn't apparate out of the house. They used a levitation spell to take Mum and Dad out of the house and Granddad went at once to St Mungo's. Gran almost tore the house apart looking for me. She finally found me in a cupboard in the lounge, the room where Mum and Dad had been tortured. I was frozen by the body bind curse." His tone became more conversational as he added as an aside, "The body bind only freezes the major muscles, you can still breathe, blink and your heart keeps beating."

Hannah already knew this but she said nothing to break the flow of Neville's narration.

"I expect I would have starved to death if Gran had found me," he said casually. "Gran said the cupboard I was in had Venetian style slats which I must have been able to see through, although no one could see in. Gran released me with the Finite Incantatum spell. She said the second she did it my eyes filled with terror and I screamed the most deafening sound she had ever heard from me. She picked me up and I clung to her desperately. She rocked me and tried to comfort me until my screaming was down to sobbing. Then she tried to take me back to her house – this house," he said to Hannah indicating the room they were sitting in, "by the floo network but of course it wouldn't work. Gran rushed out of the house to go to a neighbour's house to use their fireplace. As she crossed the hall I saw Jess on the floor and screamed and struggled to get out of her arms to get down to Jess. Gran believed Jess to be dead but I was so upset that she picked Jess up and carried us both out of the house. She said I clung onto Jess and stopped sobbing. Gran ran to a neighbour's house and demanded to use their fireplace. Gran berated the neighbour for doing nothing while her son and his wife were attacked in their own home by Death Eaters. The neighbour said he had been out all day and had only just come back. I don't think Gran really believed him but he let her use the floo network to get home.

"When we got back here, Gran tried to take Jess from but I still wouldn't let her go. It was then that Gran noticed that Jess was still breathing. She called up a local animal healer who was able to treat Jess and probably saved her life. Gran managed to clean me up and give me something to eat and I eventually fell asleep. But that night and every night afterwards for weeks I would wake up screaming in terror. The healers said that the nightmares were most likely related to what I had witnessed and that Gran and Granddad should try to make me feel safe and secure and that the nightmares would eventually stop." Neville paused in a slight indecision as to whether he should confess the next part of his story but ploughed on, he had told Hannah more than he had ever told anyone before so she should hear the whole story. "But Gran couldn't bear to hear me crying in such terror, she said it broke her heart to hear her grandson in such anguish and she decided to do something about it. She used a memory charm on me to make me forget what I had seen. As I grew up Gran noticed that I wasn't very good at remembering things. When I was Hogwarts I would often forget the password to the common room and class instructions, especially in potions. Gran was always sending me remembralls."

"Oh yes," said Hannah, "During your first broomstick lesson you ended up in the hospital wing. Draco Malfoy got hold of your remembrall when it fell out your pocket."

"That's right," agreed Neville, pleased that Hannah had known this small snippet about him. Most people knew this story only in relation to Harry having shown his skill as a potential seeker whilst catching a ball that Draco Malfoy had thrown. Few people knew it had been Neville's remembrall. "Anyway, one of my Uncles told me years later that Gran had felt responsible for my bad memory and that if she hadn't used a memory charm I might never had suffered from forgetfulness." He paused for a second and added thoughtfully, "I've never blamed Gran for it, she was only trying to help me but Professor McGonagall once told me that Gran failed her Charms OWL, so there may be some truth in it." He smiled across at Hannah, "My memory is much better now. I think it was all the practice we had when we part of Dumbledore's Army, not being able to write things down in case the information fell into the wrong hands. Plus, the healer who helped Mum and Dad also had a look at me and she was able to use a healer's memory charm to help me. The healer used to work at Hogwarts, the year that Harry defeated Voldemort. Do you remember her?"

"I can't say I do," replied Hannah, "but then you spent a lot more time in the hospital wing that year than I did, Neville!" Taking advantage of Neville's expansive mood Hannah asked him to tell her about his grandfather.

Neville leaned back against the chair and began to reminisce. "Granddad died when I was 10 but my memories of him are clear and always have been." He paused for a second, "When I was little my Gran was very strict with me but she was never unkind. As a child I couldn't see the difference and I would often run to Granddad when I thought she had been particularly harsh. He rarely overrode whatever punishment she had given me, and I didn't expect him to. The punishments were usually things like no dessert after dinner, or going to bed early, withholding pocket money, or not being allowed out to play. Granddad would listen to my story and then explain what I had done wrong and why Gran had seen fit to reprimand me. It was the telling of my side of things that helped me to understand." Neville sighed and said "He wasn't a weak man, but he had lived with my Gran long enough to know what was important and what wasn't. I remember one occasion when Granddad took Gran to task over one incident. Gran was telling me off because I had muddled up something she had told me to do.

"Neville," she said angrily, "you have a memory like a sieve. You knew that I needed you to pass on the message about halving the coal order this week, but instead you said we needed double - now we have enough coal to provide fuel for the whole village and nowhere to store it! Let alone the cost of the fuel – we'll have to eat coal instead of food. I've a good mind to put the coal in your bedroom and you can sleep in the coal shed."

"Granddad came into the kitchen at that point. "Augusta!" he said sharply – in a way I had never heard him speak to Gran. "If you need Neville to pass on messages then write it down." He stared at her and said assertively. "You know where responsibility lies for this."

"To my amazement Gran turned white as a sheet and I swear she was about to cry, she rushed out of the room and said no more about the coal incident. I know now, of course, that Granddad was referring to her attempt at using a memory charm me.

"Anyway, Granddad was a kind and patient man. When I first went to school he would spend hours with me helping me to learn to read and write and do simple maths. I don't think that Gran would have been able to do it, she would have got frustrated with my slowness. Without that groundwork I would have been so far behind I doubt I would ever have got into Hogwarts. Although," he added thoughtfully, "for ages Gran thought I would never get into Hogwarts because I showed no sign of magic and they thought I was a squib. My Great Uncle Algie kept trying to catch me off my guard and force some magic out of me — he pushed me off the end of Blackpool pier once, I nearly drowned, Granddad was furious — but nothing happened until I was eight. Great Uncle Algie came round for dinner, and he was hanging me out of an upstairs window by the ankles when my Great Auntie Enid offered him a meringue and he accidentally let go. But I bounced — all the way down the garden and into the road. They were all really pleased, Gran was crying. When I told Granddad that Gran had been crying tears of joy he looked at me in a strange, sad way and gave me a hug before he went to tell Uncle Algie what a dangerous and stupid thing he'd done."

"Surely your grandparents must have been glad that you had magic," said Hannah in slight puzzlement.

"I think that having lost their son and daughter-in-law to magic they had hoped not to lose their grandson in the same way. If I was a squib then I could never become an auror and try to avenge my parents. Once they knew I had magic they were determined I would get the best training on how to use it so there was no question that I would go to any other school than Hogwarts."

"I'm sure your Granddad would be proud of how you helped defeat Voldemort," commented Hannah.

"Grandad would have been proud of me whatever I did," said Neville. "Although," he added in a lighter tone, "perhaps not if I turned to a life of crime!"

"Do you mean crimes like writing graffiti such as "Dumbledore's Army – still recruiting" on the school walls? Refusing to obey a teacher when he told you to use the Cruciatus Curse on students who'd earned detentions? Crimes like asking a teacher how much mudblood she had? Crimes like trying to steal the sword of Gryffindor from the headmaster' office?" Hannah said sardonically.

"I think he would have disapproved of the last one," Neville conceded, "especially when it turned out that Snape had been one of good guys after all."

"He wouldn't have disapproved of this," said Hannah as she gently traced the line of a scar along his cheek, earned for refusing to use the Cruciatus Curse.

"No, I suppose not," said Neville removing Hannah's had from his face and holding it on his lap. "When Granddad died, Gran and I were at his bedside, he just slipped into a deep sleep and never woke up. I was distraught and I know than Gran was too, but she kept a brave face and tried to be strong for me. I thought that it was a weakness if I cried in front of her, so I did all my crying with Jess, my dog. It must have been harder for Gran because she had nobody to cry with.

"I still miss Granddad, you know, even after all these years. He was my confidant, a sympathetic yet sensible listener who always gave me good advice and helped me to understand how and why people are all different. He was also great fun. Before his final illness we would play mad games - him, me and Jess romping in the grass, playing Ground Quidditch – Jess was always the seeker – Gran would join in sometimes. Those are the times I remember most fondly from my childhood." Neville stopped speaking and didn't resume. Hannah snuggled up closer to him on the couch and maintained the respectful silence for a fine man she had never known.

-oOo-

The following weekend Neville and Augusta went to the Janus Thickey ward for long term spell damage at St Mungo's for what they hoped would be the last time. The ward had changed significantly since the first time they had come some 24 years ago. The ward had been extended and now comprised self-contained private living areas for the patients, each equipped with its own bedroom, lounge, bathroom and a kitchen for those that wanted it. It was easy for wizards to make changes to buildings and each unit was arranged for the needs of the occupants. The ward still had an area laid out in the more traditional manner with rows of beds because not all patients were capable of any degree of independent living and needed constant nursing care and supervision. The window at the end of this part of the ward still looked out onto the wall of the building opposite and images of landscapes were still projected onto its wall. Today the image was of a sunny meadow, speckled with colourful flowers and green grass, with a bright blue sky overseeing it all.

Neville and Augusta entered living quarters number 1 where Frank and Alice were waiting for them. On the floor of the lounge were two bags, pitifully small, that contained all that Frank and Alice wanted to take away from the place where they had spent almost half of their lives. These days Alice and Frank both stood up straight and faced the world with a confidence denied to them for so many years. They had lost their gaunt appearance and their hair, although whiter than Augusta's, was sleek and full. The lines on their faces were smoothed out by gaining a little fat. Alice had the same shape face now that Neville had sported when he was a boy. Traces of her could be seen in his round nose and full lips.

"Are you ready to leave?" Neville asked his parents.

"Yes!" they replied emphatically.

Miriam Strout, the healer, had come into the room with Neville and Augusta to say a final goodbye to the people she had looked after for so many years. Once she had thought that Frank and Alice would never be the people they were before their injuries but she was glad to have been proved wrong. If anyone deserved a life outside of these walls it was Frank and Alice. Miriam had already said a long farewell to them and did not need to repeat all that had been said.

Neville picked up his parents' bags and the Longbottom family walked out of St Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries for the last time, a family reunited after so many years apart. They made no insincere promises to visit, which Miriam could well understand – they were looking to the future not remembering the past. She followed the family along the length of the ward, passed the shared part of the ward where the beds were occupied by patients who needed to be seen by staff or those who had no desire for a private room – those for whom isolation was a fear. The ward was strangely silent as Frank and Alice progressed down the aisle between the rows of beds, the remaining patients understanding the significance of their departure. That hope was never lost; time could heal many hurts: loved ones could hold the key to recovery and that perhaps one day it would somebody else's turn to walk away from the long term spell damage ward.

Augusta opened the door which led out of the ward and held it open for Neville whose hands were full with the bags. Alice and Frank stepped out the door with confidence. Miriam followed behind them and stood in the doorway preventing the door from shutting as Augusta let go of it. As she relinquished her hold on the door Augusta said with genuine sincerity, "Miriam, thank you for all you've done for Frank and Alice. There were times over the years when I thought this day would never come – when we could all go home together."

"You are most welcome, Augusta" replied Miriam, "I hope that all will be well. You know that I am always available if you need help or advice while they settle in to life outside of St Mungo's, or at any time afterwards."

"Yes," said Augusta. She had received a lot of instruction from hospital staff about how to help Frank and Alice and what to expect, but she felt confident that she and Neville could cope. If they couldn't she would have no hesitation in seeking assistance. Augusta held out her hand and Miriam clasped it firmly. The two women shook hands for the first and only time. "Goodbye Miriam."

"Goodbye Augusta."

Frank and Alice were a few paces along the corridor, Augusta completed the handshake and walked briskly to catch up. Miriam remained by the door propping it open with her body and watched the Longbottom family walk out of her life and into their own. She was no Seer but believed that Alice and Frank would find their way and enjoy the remainder of their lives in the company of their family. The family who had never given up on their incapacitated relatives, like so many that Miriam had witnessed who did. The love this family had for each other shone through and it was this, Miriam knew, that had sustained Alice and Frank through the long, dark, wilderness years. The four people Miriam was observing reached the end of the corridor and turned the corner to descend the stairs and were lost to her view.

She heard her name being called from the ward, she stepped back inside and let the door swing slowly shut behind her. She heard the quiet click as it locked into position. She straightened up her posture and walked calmly in the direction of the patient who had called for her. She was a healer and the best part of the job was when your patient no longer needed you because they were able to live independently.

A movement out of the window caught her eye. The projected image onto the wall of the building opposite had just changed – now it showed a pair of birds flying in the blue sky, gliding on the unseen thermal currents in the sky, dancing around one another in graceful aerial acrobatics. Miriam smiled with pleasure and thought of Frank and Alice finally free to soar.